


Is It Too Soon To Do This Yet?

by CharWright5



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: (sort of), Age Difference, Alpha Scott McCall (Teen Wolf), Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - Human, Anal Fingering, Blindness, Knotting, M/M, Omega Deucalion, Omega Rights Activist Deucalion, Shower Sex, Temporary Blindness, college graduate Scott, minor references to violence, references to background Dethan, references to background Kali/Ennis, references to background Sterek
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-30
Updated: 2018-07-30
Packaged: 2019-06-18 21:21:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 18,988
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15494937
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CharWright5/pseuds/CharWright5
Summary: Omega Rights Activist Deucalion had no idea that his latest rally would end with him in the hospital, or with him finding a tantalizing smelling Alpha who just happens to be his nurse's son.





	Is It Too Soon To Do This Yet?

**Author's Note:**

  * For [GarsLoup](https://archiveofourown.org/users/GarsLoup/gifts).



> Another commission for the wonderful Gaelle, who wanted ABO Scott/Deucalion with Deuc having been blinded by Gerard's band of asshole hunters, only they aren't hunters here, just asshole Alphas, and Scott meeting him when he visits in the hospital. She also wanted Deuc to be the Omega and very much fighting for Omega rights so...here we are.
> 
> Title from _Delicate_ by Taylor Swift because why not?

Deucalion really should have seen it coming, although truly, he honestly hadn't thought people would be capable of such despicable violence or stooping to such a low level. Oh well, not much he could do to change the past. Hindsight was always twenty-twenty, he thought, smirking at the irony.

“Something funny?” came a friendly female voice, one that had become familiar over the past few hours.

Melissa McCall had been the nurse on duty when Kali and Ennis had brought him in, screaming in agony and eyes screwed shut. The entire thing had been chaotic, a blur in his head, barely aware of what was going on around him for several reasons. The indescribable pain he was suffering made him woozy, nauseous, his head fuzzy and swimming, and he'd only barely regained consciousness as he was lifted out the backseat of someone's car—Ennis', he believed, judging by the scent of it. The fact that he was incapable of opening his eyes helped nothing.

He was going to kill those bastards who'd harmed him.

If the twins hadn't already exacted a pound of flesh in vengeance for him, that was.

Deucalion tilted his head in the direction Nurse McCall's voice had come from, ears taking in various sounds, mind sorting them all out. A heart rate monitor beeped lowly, steadily. An IV dripped rhythmically and he assumed it was full of whatever was making him feel more loopy than pained. Someone's sneakers squeaked in the hall outside, voices murmuring and mumbling, conversations lost through the closed door. A pen scribbled within the room itself and he figured his nurse was making a note of some form on his chart. He wondered what it was before deciding it didn't matter. He already knew what he needed to know.

His eyes weren't working, although they were unsure as to whether the blindness he was suffering was temporary or not. They'd done what they could for him—surgery, antiseptic washes, physical exams—and now it was a lot of waiting, hoping his healing kicked in enough for him to regain his sight. All he could do was lay in that hospital bed and hope for the best.

He tried not to feel any sense of despair, to not let it get him down in any way. After all, he was alive, and being blinded wasn't a death sentence of any sort. Sure, it would mean a huge adjustment in his life but he had friends, resources, money. He could figure things out as they came. Not to mention that at that point, there was no need to feel any anxiety about a major life change, considering it hadn't happened yet. He just...he just needed to be patient and take things as they came.

Soft footsteps sounded out, heading away, towards the end of the bed, and he realized he'd been asked a question, that he was still grinning to himself in a strange manner. He shuffled on the bed, rolling his shoulders against the stiff pillow he'd been provided with.

“Just a little dark humor involving the irony of hindsight and my current situation,” he explained, hand absently reaching up to rub at his eyes only to pause an inch or so away. It was strange to think he'd actually managed to forget about the thick pads currently on both his eyes, about the bandages wrapped around his head to keep them in place. Now that he remembered them, he couldn't imagine not being aware of their presence on him, of the barely there weight of them. Annoying but necessary.

Nurse McCall let out a thoughtful hum but the chemosignals in her scent were amused more than anything and he surmised that she had to have somewhat of a dark sense of humor given what she saw for a living. While most injuries could heal themselves at a rapid rate, some where too much, too deep, too serious, and required a more professional touch. Injuries such as an arrow to the eye.

Or to both eyes really.

His hand fell limply to his chest, the starchy cotton of his hospital gown rough on his skin, and he absently wondered what happened to the clothes he'd been wearing when he'd been brought in. Not that he was all that keen to have them back. Chances were they were covered in blood and it wasn't as though they weren't replaceable. His organization had hundreds of the shirts printed for the protest and even if there weren't any left over, he could always order more.

He'd been somewhat fond of the khakis he'd worn though. They were just worn in enough to be comfortable yet weren't falling apart and still looked good. He liked his sneakers, too, but knew he could always pick up another pair later on. Not to mention the closet he had full of other shoes. Not a huge loss. More the principle of the thing really.

Metal rattled on metal, the clipboard being replaced at the end of his bed, and he shuffled on the bed once more, unable to get comfortable on the flat mattress. What he wouldn't give to be back in his apartment, in his California king bed with the Sleep Number mattress perfectly tuned to comfort level. Slightly spoiled and over the top, yes, but he'd earned the money used for it and he was damn well going to spend it.

“I know it's not the most comfortable thing on the planet, but it should only be for a day,” Nurse McCall commented, reading his mind. That, or she just had a lot of experience with patients fidgeting on their beds and knew exactly what was going on without his needing to tell her. She'd seen it all.

He let out a sigh, hoping she correctly interpreted the frustration in his scent as being aimed at the bed and not her. “They told me to get some rest, that it would go a long way towards helping me heal, but I'm not entirely sure how I'm supposed to do that on such an uncomfortable piece of furniture.” It was more of that irony, he knew, and he wondered why the hell they deal with these damn things. Weren't the injured and sick suffering enough?

A small laugh blew out her nose, followed by the rustle of fabric, and he cursed his current situation, hating that he was unable to see what had caused it, what she was doing. He felt too vulnerable, unsafe, something he'd spent his entire life fighting against, proving he wasn't weak or a pushover. And it was at a rally for that very thing that had caused him to become what he was arguing against.

More bloody irony.

“Well, if you need to,” Nurse McCall began, humor in her voice, calming the part of Deucalion that had perceived a threat in the movement of fabric. “Just up that happy juice you got plugged into your arm and it should help you drift off for a nice nap.”

Deucalion's left hand jerked and he was suddenly aware once more of the morphine drip controller he held in his fist. A fuzzy memory of someone telling him to press the button at the top if he was in pain came to him and he wondered if it had been this same nurse. More than likely had been, he surmised, since she'd been around from the time he'd been admitted. He hoped her shift was over soon, considering how long he'd been there. Poor woman probably needed a break.

Footsteps sounded outside the door, pausing, and Deucalion automatically turned his head as though he could see who it was. His ears felt more focused than usual, hearing a tiny bit stronger, and he knew it was to compensate for what he'd lost. Made him somewhat grateful, he realized, as it was easier to pick out the beating of the new arrival's heart, even through the closed door, even amongst the plethora of others that mixed in from the hallway and other rooms.

There was a slight nervousness to the rhythm of it, a little faster than normal, and the owner of it took a deep breath, the exhale shaky in its delivery. Whoever it was, they were trying to steel themselves to knock, to enter, to bother the two current occupants of the room.

Interesting.

Deucalion wondered who it was, why they were there. Ennis' heart had a deeper thump to it as it echoed in his barrel chest. Kali's was always strong and confident and she wouldn't be worried about knocking on Deucalion's door. The twins were rarely unsure in their actions but Deucalion got the feeling that wasn't either one of them.

For starters, it was rare one would be without the other.

For another, he'd never quite had that sort of reaction to a heartbeat.

It was...calming, as nervous as the beat itself was. Yet it seemed to soothe something inside of Deucalion. He felt worries he hadn't entirely been aware of melting away, tension draining from his shoulders, and his curiosity piqued further.

“Come in,” he called out to the door, sensing the confusion leak into Nurse McCall's scent for a brief moment before she became aware of the fact that they had a visitor.

The heartbeat tripped, pausing before it began again at twice its usual speed. They'd been caught and they knew it, another deep, shaky breath taking place before the door slowly opened.

“Oh! Hey, Scott,” Nurse McCall greeted, a warmth in her voice that suggested familiarity, a joy in her scent that suggested they were glad to see this Scott person.

Boots softly thumped against the linoleum floor, a throat being cleared almost awkwardly, and Deucalion tracked the sounds of the male moving more than the sight of him. The heartbeat had picked up another notch, racing, and Deucalion's own began speeding up, almost trying to synchronize itself.

The Omega brushed it aside, taking a deep breath on automatic in order to scent the new arrival, to sort through chemosignals to see if they were a threat.

Which he definitely wasn't.

No, this male was something else entirely.

His scent held the musk of an Alpha, that pheromone that all of his dynamic had that seemed even more irresistible on Scott when combined with his pine and cotton smell. Deucalion found himself melting into it, his body growing warm and lax, and suddenly the bed didn't feel so uncomfortable, suddenly sleep didn't feel as impossible, suddenly the morphine didn't feel as needed.

The footsteps paused near Nurse McCall, two heartbeats side by side, one a little faster than the other. Deucalion's head tracked the movement and he hoped he was looking at the right person, wished like hell he could see them. As an Omega, he'd been pulled under by Alphas' scents before, but usually when they were closer, when he allowed himself to. At that moment, he was beginning to feel a little dizzy drunk from it and Scott was still a good ten feet away, his scent diluted by the recycled air, by the disinfectants of the hospital room and the supposedly unscented detergent used on the gown and blankets covering Deucalion.

Strange.

Yet there were a million different reasons, a million different explanations for why Deucalion was reacting in such a manner. It didn't really mean anything, wasn't a big deal.

Although really, part of him felt like that was a lie, a cop out. He was making shit up in order to try and comprehend what was happening while stubbornly refusing to accept what was the obvious answer.

That couldn't be it though. There was just no way.

He ignored thoughts of every story he'd heard growing up, fairy tales and romantic follies, tawdry tales created to sell paperback novels to lonely house-Omegas. None of it was true. He was sure of it.

As much as that also felt like a lie.

The new scent— _Scott's_ scent, his mind correct, grew inquisitive, then agitated, and Deucalion fought the urge to tilt his head to the side, to bare his throat in supplication. He had done nothing wrong. This was _his_ room and if anything, he should be the one hissing at the invasion of his territory, of what amounted to his temporary nest., especially when in such a vulnerable state as having no sight. This Scott person was the threat, not him.

Logically he knew this. His mind however...no, not his mind. His mind was harping on the logic. It was something else, possibly his instincts, that part of him that was convinced Scott was not, in fact, a threat of any sort, yet something else entirely to him. Hence his not hissing, his relaxed frame of mind, his comfort and feelings of safety.

Ridiculous.

“What happened to you?” came a curious voice, deep, thick, and Deucalion felt it wash over him like a balm. Suddenly the lack of eyesight was okay, so long as he had his ears to hear that baritone, his nose to smell that Alpha scent. Granted part of him was upset that he couldn't actually _see_ who that voice and scent belonged to, couldn't decide for himself if they matched the aesthetic of the male. All he had to go on was that he sounded young, but not _too_ young.

Troublesome really, considering how Deucalion admittedly had a weakness for younger men.

It took Deucalion a moment to rein all his senses back in, to regain control of his body and mind. Then it took him another moment to realize the question had been posed towards him and an answer was expected.

What happened to him indeed.

Truthfully, he knew the basics, had a fuzzy recollection of it, but it wasn't exactly something he wanted to discuss in detail, especially not with a stranger, no matter how alluring they may well have been. Yet the Omega part of him was unsettled, didn't like the idea of disappointing the Alpha by not answering, a fact that he refused to think too deeply on. Sharing the whole story was clearly out, but there were always compromises to be made, partial notes he could give away that would satisfy Scott and still allow him to keep a semblance of privacy over a still raw event.

“I was at the Omega Rights Rally,” he stated, clearing his throat as he felt it get tight.

The room grew hotter, Scott's scent stronger, thicker with aggression, and once again Deucalion was hit with the need to submit, to bare his throat and apologize despite not being at fault. Or perhaps it _was_ his fault this time. Perhaps this was a meat-headed Alpha who believed that Omegas had enough freedoms and should be grateful for what they'd been permitted to have, that if it weren't for Alphas, they wouldn't even have the option to get jobs at all, much less the pathetic careers they could go for and the low wages they earned for them. He felt his brow pulled down and his lip pull back, ready to argue and defend his right to be there and no knot-headed prick could tell him otherwise, only to be beat to it.

Nurse McCall let out a gentle “Scott”, a low warning in her tone that really shouldn't have changed anything, shouldn't have mattered. No offense to her in any way, but she was a Beta, and Betas tended not to have any sort of control over anyone, much less an Alpha.

And yet it worked. The aggression bite to Scott's scent lessened, as did Deucalion's urge to bare his throat. The anger still stayed and so did the Omega's own agitation, his brow still furrowed, the argument on his tongue and ready to be let loose.

“Stiles was at that rally.”

The words were bit out, as though through gritted teeth, and it was clear that the fury Scott had been experiencing, had been broadcasting was never aimed at Deucalion.

The Omega's frown morphed into a confused one, the name sounding familiar. Ah yes, the young man with all the moles who'd come to meetings in high school only to leave for college. He'd returned not too long ago, volunteering his services in any way, whether it was helping to organize rallies or knock on doors for signatures on petitions. He always came in smelling heavily of leather and coffee, a scent that clearly wasn't his. From what Deucalion had overhead, the guy had an Alpha he was planning on Mating sooner rather than later, one who approved wholeheartedly of the work they were doing with the group and offered by proxy to help out should they need him for anything.

Deucalion wondered if this was the Alpha, only to realize it wasn't. The scent didn't match up, nor did the attitude. Perhaps this was a friend of Stiles', the one he often referred to as being a brother of sorts.

Seemed strange that he would disapprove of his friend fighting for his rights though.

Disappointing as well.

“I didn't notice Stiles coming in,” Nurse McCall commented, confused lilt to her words, worry turning her own scent salty.

“He only got a few scratches and bruises. Derek's treating him at their place,” Scott explained, his voice more even than before, only to turn dark, dangerous, angry once more. “I swear to god, if I get my hands on any of those assholes who attacked—”

“Language,” the nurse chastised halfheartedly, not disagreeing with the sentiment. Really, the reprimand felt more like an automatic reaction than actual disapproval.

“Well, they are,” Scott argued with a huff, fabric rustling, and Deucalion wished he could see what was going on, what was making the noise. “S'not bad enough Omegas have to fight and rally to be treated as the equals they are, they're now getting attacked for it and physically injured. It's bullshit.”

Deucalion's eyebrows raised beneath the bandages, impressed, and oddly glad to be wrong for once. He'd had Scott pegged as a chauvinistic knot-head who was mad at his Omega friend going to that rally, when his anger had been aimed at the actual knot-heads who'd shown up and ruined the whole thing with violence.

Relief had him relaxing back into the flat pillow he'd been given, tension he wasn't aware of having seeping from his muscles. He wondered why he cared so much about this young man's opinions, why it was so important to him that he feel the same way about Omega rights as Deucalion did. It wasn't as though he'd ever see the male again.

The thought created a pang in his chest that he subsequently ignored, attention brought back to the present, to the moment as Scott sighed long and loud, followed by the sound of someone rubbing skin.

“I'm sorry you were hurt,” Scott told him, words no less genuine for the thickness in his voice. It was clear the young man was full of compassion and care and Deucalion felt his chest get tight at it.

“Thank you,” he absentmindedly murmured in reply, mind feeling strangely fuzzy.

Silence descended over the room and Deucalion felt oddly unnerved and comfortable at the same time. There was just something about this young man that settled something in him, just put him at ease. It was clearly part of his being an Alpha, the musky hint in his scent combined with all the other notes of it, combining to become something that had the Omega wanting to show his belly both literally and figuratively. There was more to it than that, he knew it in his gut, but his brain was feeling like mush due to both that scent and the drugs in his system, and with fatigue threatening to pull him under once more, he was in no mood to evaluate it further.

A throat was cleared, dainty, and Deucalion figured it was Nurse McCall, figured he was right in his presumption when she spoke next.

“I do believe you promised to take me to lunch,” she stated, the words clearly aimed at Scott, and Deucalion wondered about the relationship between the two of them. Scott sounded younger than her but that didn't mean much. He'd been mistaken for his father when he was only a child and answered the phone. Being new to blindness, Deucalion was sure he had a lot to learn, subtle nuances and clues that would only come with practice and time.

Not that he was planning on needing to know any of that. Hopefully his condition was temporary.

The hope felt empty, but he clung to it nonetheless. It was all he had.

“Of course, Mom,” Scott replied, words light, answering Deucalion's unvoiced inquiry. Mother-son then. Part of him felt a little relieved, a little giddy at the information, at the realization that Scott was single—as far as he knew anyway.

More empty hope, sifting through his clenched fingers, and he felt as though he should let this one go.

He didn't.

Someone was patted, probably Scott, then soft shoes made their way out, probably Nurse McCall. Deucalion listened for a second set of footsteps to follow, but the only sound that came to him was the door closing. He scented the air and caught a whiff of that same pine and cotton blend, that note of Alpha, and he realized Scott hadn't moved a muscle. His heart began to pound once more, excitement trilling up his spine, and he wondered why he wasn't scared, why he wasn't nervous. After all, he was an Omega, weaker than an Alpha before even factoring in a presumed age difference and his impairment. He was in danger and should've been on high alert.

And yet...

And yet he was relaxed—no, he was _excited_ at the fact that he was alone with the young man, curious about what was to come, anticipation making his skin felt like it was buzzing.

He could grow addicted to this, he realized, finally feeling the nerves he should've been experiencing all along.

Scott cleared his throat, his scent growing slightly bitter with nerves of his own, and Deucalion wondered what it was he was experiencing, if he was feeling the same things the Omega was, what it would mean if he was. The Alpha swallowed audibly and cleared his throat again, the sound of skin rasping against skin reaching Deucalion's ears.

“If it's okay with you,” he began, then faltered, and Deucalion was hit with the knowledge that the Alpha was unsure, something he had no experience with. “If you don't mind, I'd like to come back tomorrow and visit? Completely up to you.”

Deucalion knew he should question the young man's motives, should voice multiple concerns and his confusion as to why he'd want to do that. They barely knew each other and Scott was fairly certain he hadn't even learned Deucalion's name at that point. Yet he was asking to visit.

Strange. Very very strange.

But a smile formed on his face and he nodded carefully once, mindful of the way his eyes were beginning to hurt, his lids feeling heavy, and he pressed down on the morphine drip to take the edge off. “I'd like that.”

Scott's scent blossomed, grew warmer, and the Omega inhaled deeply, greedily taking it into his lungs. “See you tomorrow then.” With that, boots finally sounded out on the floor, the door opening then closing, Deucalion tracking the sounds despite the inability to see.

When it was clear Scott was gone, he shuffled on the bed and attempted to get comfortable, closing his eyes and trying to find a suitable position for his head on the pillow.

He was out soon after.

~*~*~*~*~*~

Kali and Ennis stopped by that evening with dinner, saving him from the tasteless dreck the hospital offered under the guise of “food”. They also updated him on what happened at the rally, several arrests lead by the sheriff—whose son had apparently been one of the injured dozen—who was feeling a little vengeful, almost all of them Alphas. A few Omegas had been taken into custody for throwing punches of their own, but it seemed likely they would be released once it was made clear they were acting in self-defense.

If nothing else, Omegas had that much going for them legally.

Deucalion was also told about how one of the twins, Ethan, was among those harmed, his arm broken and requiring surgery to be put back together. According to Kali, who'd heard from Aiden—currently glued to his twin's bedside in an unsurprising move—Ethan was in a good place mentally and spent most of his time flirting with an orderly named Danny. Deucalion was glad to hear the man's spirits hadn't been dampened and hoped a silver lining would come out of this for one of them.

He was assured clean-up had been taken care of, as well as any reports, although chances were the sheriff would want to ask him a few questions when he was feeling up to. He didn't bother asking for any details about what exactly had happened to himself, glad to put it off longer, more than satisfied with the fuzzy flashes he had.

He wasn't, however, all that glad when it came to eating. He struggled to find the take-out container of his favorite chicken parmesan they'd gotten for him, having to be reduced to Kali feeding him as though he was a child. He continued to mentally tell himself that it was only temporary, that things wouldn't be that way forever, that soon his sight would return. It was the only thing that kept him from having a complete breakdown in front of his friends.

Their stay didn't last long, neither wanting to cause any undue stress or hinder Deucalion's recovery by taking up too much of his time. So an hour after they'd arrived, they were gone. And with the silence of the room came the earlier feelings of inadequacy he'd suffered while being fed his own meal. Society already looked down upon him for being an Omega, some seeing him as less-than solely for the dynamic he'd been born as. He'd never felt that way, of course, proud of what he was. If anything, he felt empowered by it, knowing how easy it was to bring an Alpha to their knees with one whiff of his scent. Over the years, he'd gotten quite good at using his Omega wiles to manipulate knot-heads into doing what he wanted and it made him feel important, special, gave him a sort of high that nothing else could come close to.

Yet when it came to laws, regulations surrounding his dynamic and the attitudes of a few of the aforementioned knot-heads, he was treated as sub-par, as though he was missing something vital that allowed him to be treated as though he was a human like the rest of them. The power imbalance—no, not even the power, just the general balance of day-to-day things—was something he couldn't stand for and so he'd founded his own Omega rights group, fighting those injustices and trying to gain what so many others already had. It was how he'd met Kali, a shrewd Omega with a knack for finances—as well as the attitude and power of an Alpha—and her now Mate Ennis, another Omega who did not fit into any stereotypes regarding how weak their dynamic had traditionally been. The twins were two of the first members and now a pair of the most trusted people in Deucalion's life, recruiting college and high school students, saturating social media and running the website, tech-savvy in a way Deucalion could never be.

Might not ever be now, he thought glumly, eyelashes brushing against bandages. Letting out a sigh, he turned onto his side, eyes screwing shut at the pain and discomfort in them, his brain feeling like it was fritzing out as it tried so hard to take in information it just wasn't receiving. With his fatigue setting in once more and the knowledge that it was night, it was easy to fall into a depressive state, to wonder if there was any point in waking up the next morning. After all, what use was an organizer who couldn't see what he was bringing together.

The memory of Scott's scent came to him unbidden, followed by the young man's voice asking if he could come visit. His heart thumped at it, mind annoyingly pointing out how that was something to live for, followed by thoughts concerning why it was so important to him. Part of him had a feeling as to why, way deep down in his gut, but he ignored it once again. It may very well turn out to be nothing, it may also just as likely be something. The only way to find out was to get to know the Alpha.

Deucalion felt like he'd been filled with a renewed purpose, a goal to strive for that he could actually control, that was actually achievable. It buoyed him, brought a little proverbial light into his darkness, and he fell asleep with the knowledge that the sooner he did, the sooner he would wake up and see Scott once more.

~*~*~*~*~*~

The next morning, he'd met with a counselor, a young Omega female named Marin Morrell. She spoke in dulcet tones, her voice sweet and honeyed, her scent like caramel, and Deucalion was both soothed and annoyed by the woman. He understood he'd been through something traumatic—incredibly so, considering his inability to remember it—but he hated how he was spoken to like he was fragile. He also didn't appreciate the way she insisted upon helping him learn to cope with his blindness and stubbornly refused any lessons, any tips. In his mind, his situation was temporary and therefore it was a waste of time to do any of it. She'd simply pointed out that it would make this time in his life easier to deal with if he did, however, learn them, the statement posed as a question as to his opinion more than her telling him it was the truth.

It just made him more aggravated and when she left an hour or so later, he found himself more frustrated at everything than he had been during his struggles with breakfast.

Kali and Ennis both briefly stopped by on their way to work, checking on him and updating him on the aftermath of everything. Newswire had picked up the story of a riot breaking out at an Omega rights rally and it was trending on social media, countless people tweeting about the fact that attacks like that were the reason why Omega rights were so badly needed in the first place. Deucalion was glad to hear that people were getting it, were understanding why he did what he did, but was disappointed that it took something like that to drive it home for some when it should be completely obvious.

Aiden even deigned to make an appearance in his room, partially to see how Deucalion was faring, partially because he was becoming nauseated by his brother's obnoxious flirting with the Beta orderly Danny and the scents they were both emitting. Deucalion had laughed, reaching blindly—literally—to pat the young man's hand as he pointed out how one day, Aiden would be in those same shoes. Judging by the sour note that overtook his own scent, it wasn't a sentiment he agreed with or event he looked forward to. The elder Omega made a mental note to check back in with the younger and have a talk about him about how the twins couldn't be codependent for the rest of their lives.

Other than that, his day was shaping up to be rather boring and uneventful. He was still floating in a morphine haze, something he wasn't all that entirely happy about, yet he knew it was better than the pain he'd be surely feeling otherwise. He put the TV on just to fill the silence and drown out the world outside, stumbling upon the first _Indiana Jones_ movie. He'd seen it so many times that he could perfectly envision what was happening, despite only being able to hear dialogue and sound effects. Fire was crackling, someone was punched, and he knew it was the scene in Marian's bar where the Nazi's attacked and Jones fought them off, all of them after her father's pendant.

Deucalion relaxed as best he could on the bed, shuffling about before he got settled. Losing himself in the movie, he soon drifted off to the sounds of Marian declaring herself Jones' “goddamn partner”.

~*~*~*~*~*~

It felt as though his body woke up before his brain. As it was, his hips were rolling and a rumbling was coming from his chest, something akin to a purr that for the life of him, he couldn't remember ever letting out before. His skin tingled and there was a prickle in the back of his mind that was convinced something important was happening and he needed to be more aware for it.

A knock sounded out, somewhat insistent, and it hit Deucalion that it was the second time it had occurred, that the first had woken him up. He cut off the purring, reaching up to rub at sleepy eyes only to remember there was a bandage still covering them. A groggy “Come in” left his dry throat and he tried clearing it, swallowed, cleared it again. No use. He needed a drink.

The door opened slowly, almost uncertain despite the confidence behind the previous knock, and Deucalion's fuzzy head tried to figure out why, tried to understand what was going on. Probably not a good thing, he realized, reminded that his eyes were useless and that the more awake he became, the more _aware_ he became. He was laying prone and vulnerable, easy pickings, and whoever entered would have no issue taking whatever they wanted, taking advantage of Deucalion.

He stretched the senses that he could, taking in a rapidly pounding heartbeat that seemed to match his own in its urgency, taking in the soft sound of boots on the linoleum floor, taking in the scent of pine and cotton and the musk of an Alpha.

Scott.

It was then that he remembered the younger man's promise to return the next day and he felt the tension drain from him, shoulders slumping as he melted into the hard mattress of the hospital bed. Part of him was mad at himself, at his body for letting its guard down around an Alpha they didn't know beyond a name. Just because the man smelled good...

Smelled _really_ good.

Not the point, he mentally reminded himself. He'd heard countless stories of how Alphas started off nice and loving and friendly, how they used their scents to lure an Omega into a false sense of security, only to turn abusive, only to wind up raping the Omega. It was something Deucalion was fighting for, to make it a crime for an Alpha to use their scent against an Omega. And there he was, ironically falling for it.

Pathetic.

“Um, is now a bad time?” Scott questioned, a slight wobble to his voice, uncertainty coloring his scent, and Deucalion wanted to believe it meant he wasn't one of the assholes who would harm him or any other Omega.

Could be a trick, he knew, deciding there was no harm in keeping his guard up until he got to know the Alpha better.

“No,” Deucalion answered, putting a smile on his face. Just because he was on guard didn't mean he wasn't genuinely glad for the company, especially that of Scott.

The scent lightened, a warm note that spoke of happiness, and Scott entered more, pausing once more by the end of the bed. “Is it okay if I sit?”

Deucalion nodded and listened as the Alpha moved to the chair to the left of the bed. Creaking sounded out, that of vinyl giving under someone's weight, giving Deucalion a sense of what the chair was made of. More creaking and fabric rustling as Scott got comfortable, clearing his throat and the sour uncertainty and embarrassment seeped back into his scent.

“I, uh, I got you something,” he practically mumbled and Deucalion picked up the sound of skin rasping on skin. “It's a cheesy ' _Get Well Soon_ ' bear from the gift shop. I didn't know what else you'd like or what you'd be into so. But I felt like I should bring you _something_ , ya know? And flowers seemed pointless since you can't see them, although you could probably smell them. Maybe flowers would've been better.”

The Omega's smile grew, endeared by the floundering and rambling done by the other man and touched by the fact that he'd brought a gift. He couldn't remember the last time he'd been brought something by anyone other than Kali, Ennis, or the twins for a reason other than a birthday, holiday, or anniversary of some sort. It had been far too long, he decided, knowing he'd been caught up in his work and allowing dating to fall by the wayside.

Not that he regretted any of it. Sure, it would've been nice to come home to someone, or at least be able to call someone, on those rough days. And Heats would be so much nicer with someone to share them with, someone to help take care of all his needs. But he'd figured he'd been getting by fine on his own, had for a while now.

It was only until this charming Alpha showed up with his token that Deucalion realized that maybe he missed having a romantic partner more than he'd been allowing himself to believe.

“I'm sure it's fantastic,” he assured the young man, taking in the way the scent grew less sour and more refreshing.

“Thanks. Um, here.” Vinyl creaked and something soft nudged his hand where it was laying on his stomach.

As Deucalion turned his palm over to take hold of it, he noted how Scott purposely didn't touch his skin or body in any way. The move struck him as respectful, the avoidance of accidental scent transfer or feeling something that wasn't his to feel. It was old school, but felt more traditional and classic than antiquated and caveman-like. Another endearing quality of the young Alpha, Deucalion decided, running his fingers over the new gift in his hand.

It was, as previously informed, a teddy bear, small, fitting in one hand. The fur was soft and silky against his fingers, a tee covering the bear's torso and he could feel the different texture of a design printed on it, most like the “ _Get Well Soon_ ” sentiment Scott had previously mentioned. Deucalion brought it to his nose and inhaled the stuffy scent of all new things, the blandness of the hospital, and Scott's pine and cotton that had obviously transferred over where he'd been holding it. The Omega was a little disappointed that there wasn't more of it but bit his tongue at that, hiding the emotion from his face and scent lest the Alpha get the wrong idea.

“Thank you, Scott,” he voiced instead, smiling in the direction of the young man. “I appreciate it.”

The scent grew warmer and Deucalion thought of freshly laundered clothes, of hiking in the woods in the summer, being one with nature as sun filtered through trees and birds provided the soundtrack of the day. He felt an odd sense of melancholy washing over him, missing days when his biggest problem was scrapping his knee on a log because he went off the trail his mother told him not to, rather than worrying over whether he'd be able to walk through the forest ever again.

“Ugh. This one is the worst.”

Scott's voice broke into his upset and Deucalion frowned behind the bandages wrapped around his head and eyes. Had Scott figured out his thoughts? Did he disagree with woodland hikes? Was he disapproving of Deucalion's negative outlook at his future?

“Willie Scott is just annoying and she only got the part because she was screwing the director,” Scott went on and Deucalion realized that he'd been referring to _Temple of Doom_ as being the worst of the _Indiana Jones_ trilogy. “I know that's a chauvinistic thing to say or think, regardless of genders or Dynamics or whatever, but it's true. Although I'm not sure if a better actress would've made her any more tolerable.”

“I highly doubt it,” Deucalion spoke up, holding the bear with both hands on his torso. “The dialogue she was given to speak and the situations they put her in certainly didn't help. But I suppose I could be just a little bitter that they seemed to be playing up the helpless Omega in distress cliché with her.”

Scott let out an agreeing hum. “That's why Marian was always my favorite. She felt like an Alpha personality in an Omega's body and wouldn't take any of Indy's shi—err, stuff.”

Deucalion grinned. “Yes. I highly admire any Omega who refuses to take their Alpha's shit.”

Scott seemed to relax, knowing the swear hadn't been found offensive and that he hadn't created any sort of faux pas there. “You sound a lot like Stiles.”

The comment had him frowning for a brief moment, before he remembered that the mentioned young Omega was a friend of Scott's, as well as a member of Deucalion's group. Then it hit him: Stiles was very much a modern Omega, one who also wouldn't take any Alpha's shit, much less any sort of abusive or ill-toward behavior. If Stiles trusted Scott, considered Scott a friend, then it was because he was a good man and not one of the Alphas he was constantly ranting about.

Meaning Deucalion could trust him.

Or at least trust him more than he would were the Alpha a _complete_ stranger. Yes, he clearly had Stiles vouching for him—in a sense—but one never knew how a person behaved within a relationship.

Still. It eased some of his worries and he allowed himself to relax some more around the man.

“I take it you're a fan of Indiana Jones then,” Deucalion prompted, refusing to allow the conversation to die. Despite it all, he still wanted to get to know the man more, wanted to be able to judge his character for himself. Part of him chalked it up to loneliness, to boredom, to being starved for attention at having been single for admittedly years at this point. Another part of him knew better but he decidedly ignored that part.

A smile was audible in Scott's “yeah”, fabric rustling as he shuffled to a new position. “He's no Harry Hart, but I like him.”

Deucalion wracked his brain for the familiar name before realizing...and then flushing. He was probably reading too much into it, he knew. There was no point for him to react that way. The Alpha simply named a character he liked, who just happened to be an older, English Omega, just like Deucalion. It didn't mean anything.

Scott's scent grew bolder, yet with a hint of nerves and uncertainty once more, but it didn't show in his voice when he spoke, this time closer as he leaned forward in his chair. “I kind of have a thing for older men with accents,” he admitted, tone heady and leaving very little room for interpretation.

The implication sent a shiver down Deucalion's spine and he resisted the urge to bare his throat and spread his legs right then and there. As it was, his cock gave an interested twitch underneath the decidedly unattractive hospital gown he wore and his passage grew a little damp, hole spasming. Scott's scent grew stronger once more, an added spicy note that showed Deucalion's reaction hadn't gone unnoticed and it wasn't unreturned.

He was in trouble.

And he wasn't entirely sure if he wanted to get out of it.

~*~*~*~*~*~

Deucalion managed to steer the conversation to safer waters, discussing what other movies they were both fans of. It turned out they had a lot of similar favorites, as well as similar taste in TV shows, music, and books. From that, things shifted to getting to know Scott himself, his background and his life.

Scott was a recent graduate from UC Davis where he'd acquired a veterinary degree. A part-time job in high school had ignited a love for taking care of animals he hadn't really known he'd had and inspired him to want to do more than just assist with bandages and cleaning out cages. He'd been raised by a single mother, his father having abandoned them when he was a child and an attempt at reconciliation years prior had ended up with his father bailing once more and things worse than before rather than fixed. Part of Deucalion wondered if this was where an attraction to older men came from then promptly decided it didn't matter and there was no use dwelling on it. He wasn't allowing anything to happen between the two of them any time soon.

As much as he spoke, though, Scott also listened. Deucalion found himself talking about his organization, as well as his own family history, sharing a similar story of his own father leaving when he was barely thirteen and had just presented as an Omega. A dark note joined Scott's scent, an anger aimed at the poor excuse of a man who'd left when his son wasn't the Alpha he'd wanted, leading to a rant about what a “dick move” that was as though Scott was the one personally offended. It endeared him further in Deucalion's eyes and he hoped like hell it wasn't an act just to impress the Omega.

Time passed unnoticed, until Deucalion's stomach growled as a notice that it was either at or past lunchtime. Scott's joyous mood seemed to plummet at that, his scent shifting to something else, a mix of upset, worry, and a frustration that seemed to be more inwardly aimed than at anyone else. The whole thing caused the Omega's own mood to dip, a sense of distress coming over him. He had no idea what was causing the change in the Alpha, what was happening around him. Any number of things could've broken out to cause that reaction.

Stretching his senses, he scanned the best he could for the presence of anyone else, coming up with nothing. There was no other heartbeat, no other scent, no other breathing, no other anything. Just he and Scott and the _Indiana Jones_ movie still playing on the TV.

The lack of anyone else made his curiosity grow, as well as his sense of anxiety and foreboding. There was obviously something he was missing and he mentally cursed his lack of eyesight once more as his frustration mounted.

“What?” he questioned, lost and vulnerable, feeling like a stereotypical Omega and not very pleased with it. “What is it?”

“I'm a terrible Alpha,” Scott answered on automatic, voice flat as though he wasn't even aware of saying it. Fabric shifted as Scott moved, skin rasping as he rubbed at something on his own body, possibly his face. “You're hungry and I don't have anything to provide for you.” Hands slapped against denim—at least that's how it sounded to Deucalion—Scott's scent shifting once more, this time to panic, and when he spoke again, it was in a rush. “Not that I think you can't provide for yourself or that you're incapable of taking care of yourself or anything like that. I'm sure you are. From what I've heard, you're incredibly capable of a lot of things. I just meant that right now, you can't exactly go out and grab a bite to eat from wherever you want and as an Alpha, I'm supposed to help out an Omega when they're in need of it and you're certainly in need and holy shit, I've turned into Stiles.” Hands slapped on bare skin, a groan muffled, and Deucalion let out a chuckle at how endearing the whole thing was.

“It's perfectly alright, Scott,” he assured the other man, getting a whine in response that spoke volumes over how much Scott didn't agree. “It's easy for me to lose track of time right now and I had no idea it was lunch.”

Another groan then Scott spoke with a twinge of a whine in his words. “Which is all the more reason why I failed, because I should've been keeping up with this so I could let you know and help you out.” He let out a harsh sigh as he flopped back against the chair he was seated on. “I'm sorry. I sound like an overbearing Alpha who thinks his Omega can't take care of himself.”

Deucalion's heart skipped a beat at the words “his Omega”, but he quickly wrote it off, told his heart and his body to get a grip. It didn't mean that Scott thought of Deucalion as _his_ Omega; it was just a turn of phrase, an example. Meaningless.

Didn't stop the Omega part of him from preening, from hoping, from basking in the warmth and joy of the words.

Idiotic.

“I don't think you're a terrible Alpha,” Deucalion stated, keeping his scent pleasant, assuring, genuine. He noticed when Scott's grew a little lighter, affected by Deucalion's and his words. “It's easy to get caught up in things and lose track of others.”

“True,” Scott murmured, not seeming entirely convinced.

So Deucalion continued to convince him, head turned in the direction Scott's voice was coming from, reassuring smile on his face. “Besides, if you truly believe that, then you can always make up for it by going out to get us both some lunch now.”

The Alpha's scent blossomed fully at that, breath inhaled loudly as more than likely, Scott puffed his chest out, all Alpha pride and posturing. Deucalion was more amused than annoyed, knowing it wasn't Scott's typical behavior, knowing that it was just an instinctual move resulting in what he had said.

“What would you like?” Scott asked, his tone now a lot lighter and happier now that he'd been given a chance to make-up for what he believed had been a failure on his end.

Deucalion's smile grew, although he wasn't entirely sure if it was as a result of the offer of food or due to Scott's happier mood, deciding it didn't matter. He had a feeling that there was no point in questioning it, but instead he should just get used to it.

~*~*~*~*~*~

Deucalion's life became a new routine very quickly.

Mornings were spent with Marin, stubbornly refusing to adjust to his new life of being sightless. He gave in to the lessons to a degree, learning how to get a feel for his surroundings so as not to trip or bump into things, as well as readjust to handling things with no sense of depth perception, but he drew a line at learning braille. He allowed his phone to be set up for speak-to-text and vice versa and learned how to use a seeing-eye cane, but that was it. Kali and Ennis both joined him for a lesson each so they could learn how to help him in his every day life. Scott joined him for a couple of his own, listening intently, as though he was determined to make up for the mistake of forgetting about lunch on that first day.

Scott was very quickly becoming a part of Deucalion's routine as well. If he wasn't there for the morning lesson with Marin, then he was there at lunch, bringing whatever food Deucalion had requested the day before. He admitted to being a useless cook, that unless it came with instructions on the box, he tended to flub up somehow. Deucalion was endeared with the remark and absently made a promise to teach him once his sight came back. Scott had seemed more touched and appreciative at the offer, never once pointing out that it may not happen.

Deucalion also grew closer to Scott over the time they spent together. The Alpha may not have been able to spend all day with Deucalion due to obligations with friends or his job at the local vet, but he spent what time he could there, sometimes even returning to spend his dinner break with the Omega before reluctantly returning to the clinic. The two spoke practically nonstop about their lives, their interests, what happened during their days. Scott asked about Deucalion's recovery and his friends who'd come to visit, Deucalion asked about work and funny stories over Stiles and Scott growing up together, some of which Nurse McCall even contributed to.

It didn't take long for Deucalion to realize he'd formed a crush on the younger man, something that had him feeling out of sorts. It had been a while since he'd had anything he could call that, the word seeming to both be incredibly apt as well as juvenile and not quite right. All he knew was that he felt a sort of... _pull_ towards Scott that he couldn't quite explain. Things felt easier with him around, the buzz in his brain disappearing into nothing. The frustration that constantly plagued Deucalion would dissipate, the tension would leave his body, and everything in him would feel calm, as though there was nothing in the world that could bring him down in that moment.

He knew it was dangerous, risky. He was still struggling with his injury, his eyes still not working, still not taking in anything other than darkness. And on top of that, he wasn't exactly an Omega who'd roll over for whatever Alpha showed him any interest.

But Scott had made it clear that he wasn't interested in being a domineering kind of Alpha. He spoke fondly of Stiles and Derek, about how wary he'd been when they'd begun dating, afraid that Stiles would end up being run over by a controlling Alpha, only to be reassured after several lengthy conversations with both of them—together and separately—and realizing that Derek was a lot like Scott in his thinking. Mates were supposed to be partners, Omegas were meant to have freedoms and equality, and that Alphas were meant to be support systems.

All of it made Scott all the more attractive to Deucalion and he found himself amused at the thought of it all. While he'd always been attracted to younger men, he knew he had a predilection for pretty boys and throughout the entire Courting process he'd been undergoing with Scott, he hadn't a clue what the Alpha looked like.

Because he was being Courted, Deucalion knew, even if Scott didn't realize it. He was providing the Omega with meals, was bringing him gifts—like the bear on the first day, flowers on another, a gift card for Audible.com so Deucalion could download some audio books to fill his time while stuck in bed. It was all typical Courting behavior and it all made Deucalion flush when he thought about it, heart pounding and stomach flipping as though he was a school boy once again. And the way Scott's delicious pine and cotton scent always blossomed, that Alpha musk growing stronger with pride at the joy the Omega was clearly exuding at the gifts, it was all Deucalion could do to not roll over and present himself as though he were in Heat, thanking the Alpha in a more traditional manner.

Didn't stop him from dreaming about doing that very thing and waking up with a soaked mattress from his slick and an interesting situation involving his hard cock and the catheter they had yet to remove.

Every day Scott would come to visit Deucalion and every day Deucalion looked forward to his presence once more, finding himself falling a bit more and more for the younger man. He just hoped it wasn't solely due to the circumstances and actually meant something.

To both of them.

~*~*~*~*~*~

It was a week after his initial injury that Dr Geyer came to Deucalion and stated he'd be discharged the next day. All of his tests had come back normal and at this point, there was really nothing more that they could do for him. It was all a matter of hoping his eyes would continue to heal and hopefully even regain the ability to see, but that was something he could do from the comfort of his own home. The doctor urged his patient to continue his lessons with Marin and even seek a psychiatrist should he experience any issues with his mental state when it came to any sort of PTSD or frustration at his new lot in life. Deucalion nodded but agreed to nothing, just glad he'd be able to sleep in his own bed once again.

Scott arrived for his daily visit not long after that and Deucalion didn't hesitate to ask him if he would assist the Omega in getting home the next day. It never occurred to the older man that he had other friends he could ask, friends who knew where he lived and had already helped by bringing him pajamas and toiletries from his own home. He just knew that out of everyone in his life, he most wanted it to be Scott to bring him home.

He'd made the right choice, given the way the Alpha's scent grew stronger, a nearly possessive hint in the musky note that joined in the usual pine and cotton flavor of it. Scott said he would be honored to, that he knew his boss would understand if he asked for an emergency day off. Deucalion was touched by the fast response and the fact that Scott would be taking the entire day off for it and they made plans as to what time the Omega would be leaving, what time Scott should be there to help him.

He could hardly sleep that night—well, less than usual, given the uncomfortably thin mattress and the fact that he'd been gradually taking himself off the morphine—excitement bubbling in his chest at the fact that Scott was taking him home. He felt ridiculous, felt immature, acting as though he was going out on a date the next day when it was just a ride in a car to his own loft. He was an utter fool.

When the hour finally arrived for Deucalion to check out, Scott was there with breakfast sandwiches he'd picked up along the way, the Omega's prepared exactly the way he liked it. Nurse McCall brought the paperwork to him, Scott signing him out since Deucalion clearly couldn't do it himself as his mom read out instructions on how to take care of his still healing eyes since he'd no longer be under the supervision of any medical professionals. Half an hour after Scott had shown up, Deucalion was officially discharge from Beacon Hills Memorial.

He tried his best not to be offended at the fact that he was laeving in a wheelchair, knowing it was simply hospital procedure and nothing personal. Part of him tried to focus on the bright side, that he could take it easy for a little while and not have to walk the many, many steps required to walk down what felt like a labyrinth of halls, nor would he have to worry about running into anything. Yet he couldn't quite fully erase the part of him that felt as though he was being treated like an invalid, like a weak Omega incapable of taking care of himself once more. He frowned behind the large, wraparound tinted glasses he'd been given, his eyes still covered with cotton patches but the bandages around his head gone. Chances were the pout on his lips was visible, yet he couldn't quite bring himself to care, especially when Scott squeezed his shoulder in reassurance from where he was walking alongside the wheelchair.

Deucalion lamented the fact that the Alpha wasn't pushing it himself, rather than the strange Beta male with the slightly sour scent, but took comfort in the fact that Scott was at least there and was actually responsible for carrying Deucalion's things: the duffel that Kali and Ennis had used to bring him some items from his home, a couple flower bouquets Scott himself had bought hoping the Omega would enjoy the smell—which he had, touched all the more at the thoughtfulness of the young man when he explained that he thought maybe Deucalion would like to smell something other than the disinfectant scent of hospitals. On Deucalion's own lap was the bear from that first day, his soft fur a comfort when the older man rubbed it, and a folded up seeing-eye cane Morrell had gifted him.

Scott helped guide the Omega out of the wheelchair and into the passenger seat in a way that felt caring and chivalrous rather than demeaning and controlling. From the feel of it and the way he had to bend down, Deucalion surmised it was a sedan of some form, a four door judging from the way one behind his own opened as Scott carefully placed his items on the backseat. Fumbling a bit, Deucalion managed to locate the seat belt and strap himself in, taking in the feel of fabric seats and what sounded like rubber floor mats. The scent of cotton and laundry detergent filled the small space and he recognized the scent as belonging to Nurse McCall. Chances were Scott had borrowed his mother's car for the trip.

It was only then that Deucalion realized he would no longer be able to chat with the lovely Beta woman, not with the ease in which he'd been having them at least. He'd come to look forward to her visits and the conversations they shared and would miss them once he settled back into his normal life. She was a joy to be around, just like her son.

The very son who was now carefully closing the back door and saying goodbye to the orderly—Fletcher, Deucalion overhead—before getting behind the wheel. “You ready to head home? Your home, head to your home?” Scott floundered, embarrassment coloring his scent and causing Deucalion's lips to turn up at the corners.

“Very much so, although I will admit that I shall miss some members of the staff here,” he stated, hearing Scott's seat belt click as it was locked on. “But I have missed my own bed and look forward to a shower rather than a sponge bath.”

A light chuckle came from the younger man before he started the car, scent now more level and content than before. The smell of it had Deucalion relaxing back against his seat, tension he'd been unaware of seeping from his shoulders. He knew it was his Omega nature reacting to the Alpha in Scott, moods affected by one another, but he couldn't find it in himself to hate it. It wasn't anything intentional, he understood that, understood it wasn't Scott purposely trying to make Deucalion feel one way or another. It was more like a compatible couple falling in synch with one another.

Not that they were a couple in any manner of the word. They were friends, nothing more, a label Deucalion felt comfortable with after having spent so much time with Scott over the past week and a half. But things felt easy between them, a closeness he wasn't entirely sure he'd experienced with anyone else, not even Kali or Ennis or the twins. But...

But they weren't a couple.

As much as he had a crush on the younger man and an attraction towards him. Not a couple though.

Shame really. And for the first time in...well, a very long time, Deucalion was disappointed by that fact.

An address was given and Scott programed it into the GPS on his phone before putting the car in gear. Deucalion felt the vehicle move, a disorienting sensation considering how he was still completely sightless. The fact that he couldn't see meant he couldn't tell where they were, what sights they were passing. He could only feel the car shift as they turned, feel it roll to a stop then push forward as it started moving once more. He also wasn't sure how much time passed as they drove, the radio off so Scott could focus on the directions, rendering Deucalion unable to guesstimate how long they'd been driving by the number of songs that played.

Some time later, the car made a few tight turns then drew to a stop. Deucalion heard the screech of a parking brake being pulled and the click of a seat belt being unlatched and he came to the conclusion that they'd arrived. The engine being cut off further solidified this realization and the Omega felt along his own belt to unlatch it and free himself.

“You want a hand getting out?” Scott asked, wording it so that it wasn't a comment on how helpless Deucalion may or may not have been, but rather a mere offer that could be taken or leaven, that there was no obligation either way.

“I think I can manage,” Deucalion replied, mindful of his own tone and words so that it didn't come across as though he was insulted when he wasn't. Quite the contrary really. He was once again touched by Scott's thoughtfulness in regards to his feelings and the care he went to in wording things so that they weren't demeaning in any way.

“Alright,” was the soft reply before the driver's side door opened and Scott exited the car.

Deucalion was soon to follow, bear now tucked under his armpit as he used the door to lever himself up. He unfolded the cane he'd been given by Beacon Hills Memorial in order to aide him when it came to walking, having been given lessons with Marin on how to use it to see in a sense and ensure he didn't bump into anything. He could hear Scott behind him, taking things out the backseat once again, his arms probably laden with various items.

The two walked side by side towards the front of the apartment building that Deucalion lived in, the Omega using the body heat the Alpha gave off as a guide to keep straight and not drift off at a weird angle without realizing. The cane turned out to be more useful that he cared to admit, helping him find the curb when it began to slant up for wheelchair access, finding the door so he could slow his steps and begin reaching out for the handle.

Stepping into the lobby, Scott let out an impressed whistle and Deucalion tried to picture it in his mind, the warm wooden walls, the gold trim, the faux marble flooring. A large round table was in the middle of the vestibule, usually featuring a large arrangement of flowers during the year, a Christmas tree replacing all of it during the holidays. A hand on his lower back helped guide him around it and he expressed his gratitude at the young Alpha for helping him avoid it, as well as mentally tell himself to calm. As it was, the feel of a warm hand on his body, even through his tee shirt, even such an innocent touch, it had him burning, skin tingling where the almost contact was being made.

It had been far too long, Deucalion surmised, fighting off a grimace at his own weakness, his own pathetic behavior. As it was, his heart was pounding, blood rushing, stomach flipping, all at the realization that Scott was escorting him to his apartment, that Scott would be _entering_ his apartment, Scott would be _spending time in_ his apartment, given the fact that he'd taken the entire day off to help Deucalion out. He found himself hoping the Alpha would stay long enough for his scent to soak into things—his couch, his curtains, his _bed_ , although the last one seemed highly unlikely—and that even when Scott left, some part of him would linger behind in order to help ease the lonely ache that always seemed to settle inside him whenever the younger man parted company with him.

The hand fell from his lower back when they reached the elevator, but only long enough for Scott to hit the “UP” button. It fell away once more when they entered the cart itself, Scott hitting the Penthouse button this time but Deucalion stood on the side that was apparently holding all of his things. The rise of the elevator was as disorienting as the car and the Omega wobbled a bit before finding the corner of the cart and pressing himself into it, gripping the bar as his cane hung from the strap around his wrist.

Once they arrived at the correct floor, Scott allowed Deucalion to exit first, moving so that he was back on the Omega's right and holding his hand on his lower back once more. Deucalion felt his skin tingle again, ignoring it in favor of counting the number of steps he was taking, ignoring the aggravation he was feeling at the fact that despite his protests, he was still taking Marin's advice to heart and implementing it. Well. It wasn't as though she'd ever know.

Scott let out a gentle “here” when they reached Deucalion's door, unlocking it with keys he'd been given before hand and opening the door, allowing Deucalion to proceed first once again. The Omega inhaled deeply when he stepped inside, taking in the familiar scent of “ _home_ ”, finding it strange that it felt strange to smell it once more. He'd clearly been away for far too long if it was something he was no longer used to, a fact he shoved away as soon as it occurred to him. No point in being mad about it. Wasn't as though it could be helped. Besides, he was home now, able to inhale the scent of his nest and his den, his place in the world.

The door closed over behind him and he heard the turning of the locks, the metallic scrape of the security bar being flipped over. Deucalion smirked despite himself, knowing the measures were an Alpha's habit, that drive to protect an Omega, especially when they were vulnerable, or at a vulnerable place such as their home, where their guard was more relaxed. Once again, that deep part of him that had previously lain dormant felt touched by the action, his heart pounding at the thought of the Alpha taking care of him, and it was all he could do to bite back the rumble that threatened to break out of his chest.

“You can set the things in the living room if you'd like. There's no need to take care of them right now,” he suggested and Scott let out an “okay” before footsteps sounded on the wooden floor, echoing in the open space of the penthouse loft.

Deucalion's face fell at the realization that for all he could _smell_ home, he couldn't _see_ it. Sure he could picture it in his mind's eye: the open concept of the place, the dark floors and contrasting white walls, the wall of windows to the right and in the back that gave a fantastic view of the town, the beige furniture and high tech amenities that he was as familiar with as he was his own skin.

Now he felt lost, unsure of where he was, where he was standing. How many steps had he taken when he'd initially entered the apartment? How many steps did it usually take him to get places? Had he passed the kitchenette area? Was he still close to the door?

Hurried footsteps sounded out, a whine accompanying them, as well as the scent of distressed Alpha and Deucalion realized he was putting his confusion and upset out into the air via his own chemosignals. He put on a false smile as Scott drew to a stop before him, faking as though things were okay, although his heart was racing for more than one reason.

“Is everything okay?” the Alpha questioned, worry leaking into his words, and Deucalion felt guilty at causing the emotion in the other man.

There was no point in lying, he knew, despite the fact that he was so desperate to put up a brave front. He wasn't a weak little Omega like so many stereotypes painted his dynamic as. He wasn't incapable of taking care of himself. He wasn't pathetic and in constant need of an Alpha to hold his hand through everything.

Yet that was exactly how he felt at that moment.

“I--” His voice cracked and he cleared his throat, smile faltering and he gave his best effort to make sure it would stay, no matter how shaky it was. “Sorry. Just feeling a little lost.”

Scott let out a thoughtful hum, then tentatively trailed his fingers over the back of Deucalion's hand where it was still holding onto his cane. “That's why I'm here though, right? To help? I know you're a grown man and fully capable of taking care of yourself under regular circumstances, but needing or asking for help every now and then is okay, especially when you're healing from something like what you went through.”

The words hit Deucalion in the chest like Cupid's arrow and if he wasn't so pragmatic, he would swear he was in love with the boy. As it was, he wanted to kiss him, to haul him in close and never let him go. He settled for releasing his hold on the cane, slipping the strap off his wrist, and entwining his fingers with Scott's.

“I need a shower,” he stated lowly, his voice a rumble he could feel in his chest, thick with a suggestion he honestly wasn't trying to make. “And I do believe I will need help with it.”

The Alpha's scent grew headier at that, the pine overwhelming the cotton, overlaid with the spicy musk his dynamic was known for. Deucalion felt his knees go weak at it and he bit back a groan, trying hard to remain upright. As it was, his cock twitched inside of his briefs, his hole pulsing behind him as he felt his passage dampen. He was hit with the same urge to haul Scott in close, only this time he wanted to bury his face in his neck and inhale that scent, and only that scent, straight from the source.

Fingers tightened around his as though Scott was resisting the same urge and he grew wetter at the realization that maybe his attraction wasn't one sided, that maybe Scott wanted this just as badly as he did.

“I can definitely help with that,” Scott responded, a hint of a growl to his words and Deucalion fought to keep his head upright rather than letting it loll to the side and expose his neck the way he was dying to.

“Bathroom is through the bedroom, off the hallway to the left. Doorway on the right should be open.”

Scott didn't hesitate after being told where to go, immediately heading off in that direction. But still he took care to guide Deucalion around furniture, to make sure he didn't bump into anything. When his own scent grew heavier in the air he knew they'd entered the bedroom and he tossed the teddy bear he was still holding in the direction he was pretty sure his bed was.

Once in the bathroom, Scott drew them to a stop, setting Deucalion so he was leaning against the counter. He tried once more to picture the space in his mind, long counter on the right, shelves on the left, shower lining the back with its glass door and stainless showerhead. He heard said door slide open before the water was cut on, streaming down fast and beating against the white tile floor.

Wasting no time, Deucalion pulled his shirt over his head as he toed off his sneakers, tossing his shirt aside carelessly. Bracing himself against the counter, he carefully removed his socks next, dropping them to the ground unwanted and immediately forgotten about. It was when he had his hands on the button of his jeans that he realized...

He was about to get naked.

With _Scott_.

Who more than likely would be getting naked as well.

He felt his face heat up at the realization, skin tingling and body reacting at the epiphany. It wasn't as though it was the first time he'd be in the nude with anyone and he certainly wasn't self-conscious about himself. He worked out, ate healthy, kept himself in a good enough shape that drew comments from his friends over a man of his age having an eight-pack. Yet a small part of him worried over Scott's reaction to him, what he would think.

Rather silly, he mentally noted. He wasn't some young Omega still in school, fussing over himself in order to impress anyone. If Scott didn't like what he saw, he didn't have to look, simple as that.

But he still couldn't help the part of him that so desperately wanted Scott to look, to like, to _love_ and react in a positive manner. He knew it was just his Omega nature taking over once more, that driving instinctual need to impress one's Alpha—or at least the Alpha one was attracted to—yet it couldn't be helped. And for once, Deucalion decided to just let go and let the Omega part of him take over, handle things. It would feel good to allow himself to give in to it and do what his dynamic had done for centuries before his birth.

That thought in mind, he unbuttoned his jeans, the sound of shuffling fabric hitting his ears, the soft “whomp” of something hitting the floor.

Scott's clothing, he soon figured out, skin heating up once more, cock twitching in his briefs behind his hands.

Once again, he cursed his useless eyes, depriving him of the image of the young man stripping down before him, seeming to have no issues as he pulled laces free of the boots he wore so often. It would've been nice to see each layer be removed, to see his skin as it was revealed piece by piece. He wondered about the Alpha's skin tone, remembering when Scott had mentioned he was of Mexican descent, wondering if that meant he was a nice tan, how dark he may be. He wondered about his build, if he was a lean muscular like Deucalion, broad like Ennis, somewhere in between like the twins. He had a general idea about his height due to the bumping of their arms and shoulders as they walked to the front door only minutes before, approximating that they were about the same, but really, that was all he knew.

He thought of all those movies and TV shows with blind characters, the cheesy scene of the sightless one running their fingers over the love interest and trying to “see” how they appeared. He wondered if maybe there was a way to do so himself, if he could figure it out and imagine it in his head or if he'd need more practice in order to hone that skill.

He certainly would be willing to try often with Scott.

All over Scott.

The thought of touching the Alpha had his cock filling in his jeans and he tugged down the zipper in order to gain some relief for the half-hard length. His hole was pulsing once again, damn near throbbing, and he knew there'd be no way to hide any of his reactions, not with an Alpha in the room.

The sound of another zipper being dragged down hit his ears and his heart began racing inside of his chest. Deucalion mentally scolded himself, frowning above the bandages on his eyes, behind the special wraparound glasses he'd been given. There was no need to get so worked up, so excited. Nothing was about to happen beyond getting wet—a different kind of wet, of course—and getting clean. They were stripping down for a shower, not for anything sexual in nature. It was going to be as clinical and professional as those sponge baths he'd been given at the hospital. Nothing special, nothing more, nothing like what he was imagining.

A sense of disappointment washed over him but he quickly wiped it away, focusing instead on working his jeans down his legs, ears picking up the sounds of Scott stripping his own off. Deucalion tried to quell his excitement by focusing on the other sounds in the room, the air blowing through the vent, the whirring of the extractor above the shower, the water rushing down before the steady stream was broken up a couple times, presumably by the temperature being checked.

“You wanna test it? See if it's okay to you?” Scott offered and Deucalion nodded then felt around the floor with his foot, shoving his clothing aside so he didn't trip on anything.

He took slow careful steps straight forward, toes outstretched to test the ground in front of him before he fully placed his foot—and his weight—down. He knew it took him longer than usual to cross the space but he'd rather take care than rush and wind up tripping or bumping into something. Soon enough, he felt the edge of the shower with his toe and he shuffled his feet forward enough so he was standing in front of it, close to it. He felt out with his hands next, the door slightly slid open, enough for him to find the opening but not enough to get the floor wet. Testing the water, he found it to be the perfect temperature and peered over his shoulder, in the direction Scott's heartbeat seemed to be coming from.

His faster than usual heartbeat, now that Deucalion was really listening to it, paying attention to it.

Perhaps he wasn't the only one affected by what they were about to do after all.

Clearing his throat, he gave a small nod before feeling steady enough to actually speak. “Feels perfect.”

The Alpha's scent blossomed as Scott inhaled sharply, more than likely puffing his chest out in pride. Deucalion smiled, wishing he could see it, yet the Omega part of him was satisfied with just the smell of a happy Alpha.

Sliding the glasses off his face, he held them out in Scott's direction, feeling when they were taken from him. He figured the bandages could stay, protect his eyes from the water and any shampoo or soap that may get in them. Last thing he wanted to do was damage his eyes further, to undo what the doctors had done for him, to screw up his healing in any way. With that in mind, he shucked his briefs and carefully stepped over the lip of the shower, turning his back on the spray.

The water pulsed on his back, the pressure perfect as it massaged out knots and tension that had formed in the muscles from being stuck in a bed for most of the past week. A groan escaped him unbidden, his head hanging loose about his shoulders, chin practically tucked against his chest.

He heard the door beside him slide closed before the opposite end was opened, bare feet padding against the tile floor, door closing over once more. Deucalion's heart ratcheted up a notch again and despite the ample space within the shower, it suddenly felt very small, very intimate. He realized he hadn't shared a shower with anyone since he was younger, still in college and in his first apartment, when everything was new and exciting and he could experiment with things like shower sex or just washing one another.

Now though...

Now he was older and wiser and admittedly a bit more jaded than he had been. Now he knew better and knew that this situation wasn't the same as those others. Now he felt as though it was new in a different way, exciting for a different reason.

A low rumble echoed against the walls before it cut off and Deucalion knew that Scott had let out a growl. His head tilted to the side on automatic, instincts forcing the move more than anything, and a tingle raced down his spine. It took him a moment to realize that his reactions hadn't been out of fear and the sound hadn't been out of anything aggressive. No, with the way Scott's scent had grown headier, thicker in the muggy atmosphere of the hot shower, it was something more pleased, more approving.

Deucalion felt his own chest puff out, his own pride swelling. The Alpha clearly approved of what he was seeing, although it was impossible to know if Scott was approving of the Omega's appearance or the shower's. The uncertainty had him biting his lower lip and he hated how weak he felt, how childish.

The scent grew stronger as Scott stepped closer and a thumb pressed against his lower lip until it popped out from between his teeth. “None of that,” Scott murmured, his hand slowly curving around to cup the side of Deucalion's face in trepidation, as though unsure of his move. The Omega leaned in to the touch, the warmth, realizing that he was starved of affection, had been for quite some time.

But it wasn't a lack of touching that had Deucalion seeking it out from Scott. No, it was Scott himself and Deucalion was tired of arguing with himself, tired of pretending that his reactions to the Alpha were something to be embarrassed or ashamed of, something that only a young pup should be experiencing. He wanted this, wanted Scott, and he was fairly certain Scott wanted him, too.

Blindly, Deucalion reached forward with both hands, bumping into soft skin and firm muscle. His fingers trailed outwards until he was sure he had found the younger man's hips and he held onto them, long fingers curled around him. Using that grip, he stepped closer, not pausing until their bodies were mere centimeters apart, until a deep breath by either would have them touching.

Standing so close, Deucalion could tell that Scott was exactly his height, that he was leaner than him, that his scent was the most delicious thing he'd ever smelled. Every inhale made his head spin, his passage dampen, and he wouldn't have been surprised if Scott could feel his cock twitching as his own. As it stood, the Omega was losing the battle with his restraint and he wasn't entirely sure if he felt like holding on to it anymore.

“Thought you wanted to get clean,” Scott quipped, his voice barely audible over the rushing water and the rushing blood in Deucalion's ears and the Omega could feel the words gusting against his lips.

His tongue darted out to wet them, one side pulling up in a shaky semblance of a smile, and a small laugh escaped through his nose. “I'm not sure what I want right now.”

A light chuckle came from Scott this time, his happy scent like a warm hike in the woods in the summer and fresh laundry hanging out to dry, a deeper musk note just barely overridden by them. “Let me take care of you,” he whispered, nudging the Omega's nose with his own, and it would've been easy, so easy, to just...tilt his head a little and connect their lips.

So he did.

Deucalion kissed him, needing it more than he needed to get clean, more than he needed to breathe air. And Scott didn't hesitate or push back or fight it in any way, simply went pliable against him, returning the kiss himself.

It wasn't a drawn out thing or a heated kiss, but it was still enough to get Deucalion's pulse to skyrocket and his blood to boil and his skin to inflame more than the hot water beating against his back. Scott pulled back all too soon and Deucalion could feel as well as scent the grin he was wearing before he stepped away.

The Omega hid his disappointment, the feeling soon erased by the sensation of Scott easily moving to his side. The shower head was detached from where it sat and Scott gently coaxed his head back in order to soak the light brown hair on top. The pressure massaged at his scalp and Deucalion didn't bother to stifle a groan at the feeling of it. An answering noise came from his left and he grinned at the feeling of something hot, hard, and wet twitching against his thigh. Seemed as though he wasn't the only one half-hard in the shower, the knowledge making him feel powerful.

His hair was rinsed, shampoo massaged in with careful hands that had him practically purring in the small space, the suds washed out soon after. The shower head was moved all around him as the rest of his body was soaked then put back on its hook before plastic rattling sounded out. He heard the snap of a cap, the squirt of body wash, and soon after, felt the plush fabric of his washcloth on his shoulder.

Scott washed him just as methodically as he had his hair, just as the nurses had at the hospital. Only unlike the uniformed professionals, this didn't feel quite as detached, not with Scott pressing in close and allowing Deucalion to feel just how very naked—and hard—he was, not with Scott pressing kisses to the skin he cleaned, not with Scott's breathing getting shaky at times.

The washcloth moved over his abdomen, tracing the indentation of muscles there and a swear was breathed out from the Alpha.

“D'you have any idea how hot you are?” he muttered, the question clearly rhetorical, and Deucalion grinned widely at the praise. “I mean, Stiles keeps going on about how hot Derek is and objectively, he's a good looking guy, but _fuck_. He's got nothing on you, that's for damn sure.”

Deucalion knew of the Alpha he was referring to and while he wasn't the Omega's type, he could see where others found him attractive. Scott finding him more so was a definitely ego boost and he lapped it up like a cat with cream.

Scott continued to clean him off, washcloth moving lower, but just before it reached where Deucalion was dying for it to reach, Scott moved around to his back. His shoulder blades were washed, his spine, down to the dimples above his ass. The Omega spread his legs, more out an invitation than for anything else, and he resisted the urge to just...grab his own cheeks and spread them, hoping the Alpha would get the hint and touch him there. But again, Scott left him wanting, carefully moving back around Deucalion to his front. 

He heard the creaking of joints as Scott presumably crouched or knelt down, washing Deucalion's legs one by one. When he reached the first foot, he gently coaxed it up and Deucalion reached out to grab hold of the Alpha's head for balance. His feet were washed with care so as to not tickle, each in turn, the last parts of his body to be cleaned.

Other than the ones Deucalion most wanted Scott's hands on.

Because he was fully erect at this point, his cock standing up proudly before him. Because his passage was drenched and his hole was opening on its own, slick coating his cleft and slipping down behind his balls, down the thighs that had just been washed. Deucalion was quivering as he stood there, his breathing heavy, everything in him tense, and if he wasn't relieved sometime soon, he might just explode.

“Scott,” he rasped, voice thick with need. “Touch me.”

“Thought you'd never ask,” Scott responded in a rush, a wet slap sounded out from the far corner as the washcloth was apparently flung aside. Hands gripped his hips and without preamble, the Alpha took the Omega's cock into his mouth.

Deucalion cried out, pleasure rushing to his head and his body bowed forward, both hands gripping Scott's head now. His hair was wet but thick, lush, and it slid between his fingers perfectly. It was the last coherent thought he had as more of him was swallowed, warm wet heat enveloping him as Scott took him further in.

A moan vibrated around the sensitive organ and Deucalion groaned loudly, the sound echoing off the tile walls. He grew even wetter, slick steadily trickling out of him and he felt empty, empty, empty. One hand left Scott's head to reach around behind himself, finger rubbing over his hole, feeling the way it pulsed open, ready to take him in. Except a hand pulled him away by the wrist, putting it back on the Alpha's scalp as he began to bob up and down his cock, making him cry out in both pleasure and frustration.

Yet the Alpha didn't leave him wanting for long, his hand gripping one of Deucalion's cheeks and squeezing. His teeth sank into his lower lip again to stifle a whine, the meaning rendered pointless as fingers crept along to his crack, the middle soon rubbing against his entrance in a manner that was both teasing and testing.

“Scott, please,” Deucalion breathed out harshly, mewling as the head of his cock was sucked on. “I need—” His voice cracked and he never got the chance to finish the sentence, yet it didn't seem to matter. Scott was either a mind-reader or just perfectly in tune with his body already that he immediately slipped a finger inside of Deucalion, drawing a long moan from him. He was already so open, so wet that it slid in without resistance, filling him up.

But not enough.

Nowhere near enough.

Scott continued to suck his cock as his finger worked its way in and out of him, tugging on the rim, stretching him. He moved with such proficiency that Deucalion began to wonder at his experience, before the thought was vanquished from his mind by a second finger sliding inside of him.

The stretch felt good, pleasurable, not quite a burn yet still felt. The two moved perfectly in and out, a steady rhythm in perfect synchronization with Scott's mouth: when they were inside, his cock was pulled out to the head; when they withdrew, he was sucked deep, damn near to the back of his throat. It wasn't long before a third joined in, the stretch this time felt even more and causing a wonderful ache that he longed to feel. It was a reminder of his Alpha's claim, of his Alpha taking charge, of his Alpha giving them what they both wanted.

But still, Deucalion was greedy for him.

“Scott,” he whined out, his every breath heaving out of him. “Knot.”

The younger man pulled away, the dick in his mouth releasing with a pop that Deucalion felt in his soul, and he missed the warmth and wet suction immediately. “'Not' what? What don't you want?”

Okay, clearly a miscommunication was happening and the Omega swallowed hard before trying to clarify.

“Want. Your. Knot,” he explained through his pants, the fingers never stilling inside of him. It was then that he realized his hips were moving, that he was trying to fuck himself back on them, and god, he was greedy for it, greedy for more, greedy for all of Scott and everything the Alpha could give him.

A swear was breathed out, the musk in his scent swelling and overwhelming in the humid space. Slipping his fingers out amid a protesting whine, Scott rose to his feet and reached behind Deucalion to cut the water off, their bodies pressed together, both groaning at the contact.

“Not in here,” Scott stated and Deucalion nodded in agreement, his arms wrapping around his Alpha in desperation, lips pressing open mouth kisses to the damp skin covering the round of his shoulder, across it, up his neck. Scott let out a guttural groan, hands squeezing the mounds of Deucalion's ass and hauling him in close. The Omega let out a sound that was half-moan, half-whine at the feel of the younger man's cock against his and he wished he could get a better feel, be able to better tell how they compared. Instead, all he could do was move his hips in a needy roll, rubbing the two lengths together as he panted against Scott's neck.

“You keep doing that and we'll never get out of here.”

Part of Deucalion was okay with that, not quite seeing the appeal of parting or moving away, not when this felt so good. Every touch was electric, sparking the need in him and fanning the flames within. Honestly, he couldn't think of a damn thing he wanted more than what was happening at that moment, Scott holding him close, pressed up against each other as their hips rolled.

But then Scott's hands shifted, fingers closer to the cleft of his cheeks, the tips teasing at the rim of his entrance and suddenly Deucalion remembered why they were leaving the shower, why they couldn't just stay there. A needy whine escaped him as he lifted his head from the crook of Scott's neck, back arching in an attempt to get those fingers to breach him once more. A low chuckle left the Alpha at that and Deucalion lifted his head to glare.

“C'mon,” Scott stated with an audible smirk before bringing his face close to Deucalion's once more. “I'm _dying_ to get inside of you.” The words were spoken in a low volume, a husky tone to them that hadn't been there before, each syllable gusting against Deucalion's lips in a teasing manner. The Omega swallowed hard and nodded vehemently, not fighting it when Scott moved back and extracted himself from the elder man's hold.

The door was slid open, rattling in Deucalion's ears, and he picked up the sounds of wet feet padding on the mat outside the shower. Then it was the sound of fabric whomping—for lack of better onomatopoeia—and the Omega assumed Scott had grabbed a towel. It was another intuitive thought that was proven right when the fluffy cotton was wrapped around his waist, tucked in at the front, before Scott took his hand to help guide him to the edge of the shower itself.

“Don't want you getting cold,” the Alpha muttered, almost gruffly, as though embarrassed by the thought somehow. A soft smile formed on Deucalion's face as he once again found himself oddly touched by the young man.

With great care, he stepped out of the shower, one hand in Scott's, the other feeling the edge of the wall, noting how the tile gave way to smooth paint. His feet landed on the soft mat and he took care to dry them off before daring to walk across the linoleum floor barefoot and blind. It took longer than it normally would for his feet to touch the wood floor of his bedroom and he tried to picture the bed itself, how far away it must be. Unfortunately for him he'd never given a great deal of focus towards that very thing, never counting steps or guesstimating distances. He'd always just paid more attention to where it was in a general sense so he knew which direction to walk in. Now, he didn't even know that.

But Scott was there, holding his hand and leading him with care in a way that didn't feel like leading or like he needed the help. It felt just as it would if Deucalion were to have his eyes, if they were two regular men with no impairments heading to bed to be with one another. He wasn't sure if Scott was aware of his behavior, if it was just how he treated others or behaved with them, or if he was going out of his way to make sure Deucalion was okay and not feeling demeaned in any way, but no matter the case, Deucalion found himself falling for the Alpha even more.

Soon—or much later, it was hard to tell—they began to slow then stop, Scott gently pointing out they'd reached the bed, and Deucalion let go of his hand in favor of reaching down to touch the bed. After realizing they were parked at the side of it, the Omega carefully lowered himself onto the edge of the mattress, sitting down so he was facing where Scott's heartbeat was coming from. He reached out blindly and managed to take hold of the younger man's sides, pulling him so he was between Deucalion's spreading legs. When the towel began to impede him and prevent him from parting them any further, he tugged the tucked in corner loose and let the fluffy cotton fall open, his hard cock spreading the sides even more.

A low growl caused a shiver of pleasure to race up Deucalion's spine, Scott stepping between his legs as the Omega's hands slid down his damp skin. It was then that Deucalion discovered that Scott hadn't bothered with a towel of his own, leaving him as naked as he had been in the shower. The realization had him whimpering and he felt the towel below him grow damper with something other than just water. Leaning forward, he pressed his lips to the Alpha's abdomen, dragged them across his torso, feeling the bumps and delineation of separate muscles. He let out a groan against bare skin, imagining the six—or possibly eight—pack he must have.

Seemed as though Deucalion wasn't the only one between them who worked out.

He began to trail kisses down the middle of his torso, tongue dipping into his belly button, now a man on a mission to feel for himself exactly how big Scott's cock was, what it tasted like, how it would feel against his tongue. Only a hand swiping through his hair and pushing his head away stopped him, gently pushing his head away.

“I'm not gonna last if you go anywhere near there,” Scott threatened with a rumble, voice still holding a hint of a rasp, hand practically petting the top of Deucalion's head. “Besides, I already told you,” he paused, leaning down so their lips were only a hairs breadth apart. “I'm _dying_ to be inside you.”

Deucalion felt his eyes roll up to the back of his head as he groaned from his chest, his entire body going limp and pliant. He could feel Scott smirking against his lips and he opened his eyes to glare, only to be met with darkness, lashes fluttering against bandages. What he wouldn't give to be able to actually _see_ that grin and know what it looked like, how it would spread across Scott's face, how his eyes would light up.

Part of him realized that he had no idea what Scott looked like in the first place, what color his eyes even were, but the thought was quickly erased by the feel of Scott fully pressing his lips to Deucalion's, kissing him passionately. It wasn't the chaste lip lock of before, but an all-consuming thing that had Deucalion's head spinning and mind whirring. A moan escaped him, lips easily parting to allow Scott's tongue to invade, neither holding back anything.

Deucalion's hands moved up to the back of Scott's neck, legs raising to wrap around his waist and he leaned back on the bed, pulling the Alpha on top of him. The skin on skin contact, the feel of that weight on top of him had him gasping and his hips bucking, body reminding him of how he'd had this in the shower but it had come to a stop so they could change locations.

And now there they were, in that new location, and there was no reason why they couldn't just pick right up where they'd left off.

Slipping a hand between their bodies, Deucalion wrapped his fingers around Scott's cock, making the Alpha gasp and the Omega moan. True to stereotypes surrounding his dynamic, Scott was well-endowed, longer than Deucalion, thicker, his fingertips not meeting where they were curled around the length. A needy noise bubbled up from Deucalion's throat, the knowledge that soon that girth would be inside him, splitting him open, making him wetter. His hips rocked up and he moved Scott's dick down so it was now rubbing along his cleft, hoping that he could either slip it inside himself or the hint would be taken.

A breathy laugh gusted against Deucalion's lips before Scott reached down and removed his hand, entwining their fingers before reaching up to pin it above the Omega's head. Scott lifted his own head, scent shifting to something uncertain and worried before he spoke.

“This okay?”

Goddamn, if he wasn't the most adorable little Alpha Deucalion had ever had the fortune to be around and a grin of his own formed on his face. “The only thing that's not okay about any of this is the fact that you have yet to put that incredible cock of yours inside me where I so achingly need it.”

A growl rumbled out, vibrating against Deucalion's chest, and Scott reconnected their lips in another devastating kiss. And once the Alpha had asserted his dominance there, he gripped his dick and began moving it up and down the crack between the Omega's cheeks. Deucalion reached down and pulled at one, whines swallowed as the tip of Scott's cock teased his fluttering entrance. Then finally, _finally_ , he was breached.

Scott didn't pause until he was fully seated inside, allowing Deucalion to feel all of him, his head falling back against the mattress with a prolonged groan. It was definitely on the bigger side of things, filling him up in a way he wasn't sure he'd never experienced. It almost felt like too much, what with how long it'd been since he'd gotten laid, but he was more than willing to put up with the overwhelming sensations of having this Alpha inside him.

This Alpha who was currently panting hard where he was doubled over Deucalion, fingers squeezing tight around fingers, body trembling. Or maybe it was the Omega who was trembling. Or both. Either way, the elder male knew that he wasn't the only one who felt like this was a lot, barely hanging on.

And honestly...

Honestly, it felt like the beginning of something, like this wasn't going to be a one time thing. They'd have plenty time to do this in every possible position and speed and manner. Right now, Deucalion wanted the Alpha to leave his metaphorical mark and show the Omega what it was like to be possessed.

It wasn't a thought he'd ever had before, but Deucalion couldn't find it in himself to be upset or question it. He just _wanted_.

“Scott,” he rasped out, pausing to swallow, his hand now moving to the back of the Alpha's neck. “Move. I need—I need you to _fuck_ me.”

The words were understood, the meaning not lost, and without any further delay or unnecessary badgering, Scott pulled back until only the head remained inside him before slamming back in all the way.

The air was practically punched out of Deucalion, no room inside of him for it, not with Scott filling him the way he was. The Alpha rose up, releasing Deucalion's hand, adjusting his stance as his own hands moved to the Omega's hips. One he was settled and positioned, he pulled out once more and slammed in against, just like before, starting a near brutal pace as he completely owned the elder man.

Deucalion could only take it, his hands reaching out to grab hold but coming up empty, forcing him to grip his comforter instead. His ankles were hooked around the Alpha's back to keep him there—not that it seemed as though Scott was planning on going anywhere—and his every exhale was a grunt or a groan. Scott himself was letting out swears under his breath, dropping praise over how good Deucalion felt, what a good Omega he was for taking it, and Deucalion felt his chest puff up with pride as the words drove him to a new level as much as the thrusts inside of him.

Scott never slowed in his pace, in his assault, the angle perfect for filling the Omega and rubbing against his prostate with every motion. It wasn't long before Deucalion could feel himself getting closer, the coil tightening inside him as he was pushed to the brink. He brought his hand down to wrap around himself only for it to get slapped away with a growl, pinned to the mattress by his shoulder as Scott seemed to loom over him.

“You come from me,” the Alpha growled. “Or you don't come at all.”

Deucalion whined in both need and arousal, the low pitch and the command in the younger man's voice ratcheting things up even higher. A stream of swears rushed out of him under his breath and he began clenching around the hard length in order to try and get himself off that way.

“That's it, baby. Squeeze me tighter,” Scott stated breathily, moaning out a curse of his own as his pace slowed down solely because of his inflating knot. “Gonna knot you. Gonna fill you up and plug it in you, coat you with my scent so everyone knows who you belong to.”

“ _Yessss_ ,” Deucalion hissed out, the words getting him closer, closer, closer...

“Oh, fuck, Deuc, I'm gonna—” The words were choked off as the knot fully expanded, locking him inside, and Scott was reduced to grinding his hips in a dirty circle as he began coming, filling the Omega with stream after stream of hot liquid. He doubled over at the force of it, the top of his head hitting the middle of Deucalion's chest, his hot breath coming out in shaky pants against the sweat-damp skin of his torso.

The feel of it hitting him deep, the wide girth of that knot rubbing right against his prostate, and the feel of the Alpha trembling against him had Deucalion shooting off as well and Scott moved his head so his lips were pressed to the older man's ear coaxing him on with breathy praises.

“That's it, baby, let it all go. Cover us both. Lemme see how much you love having my knot filling you up.”

Deucalion could only moan, brain too fried to be able to handle anything more, nuzzling against the Alpha's cheek to mingle their scents. He couldn't imagine wanting anything else, needing anything else. Or anyone else for that matter.

A purr rumbled up from his chest as he wrapped his arms around Scott and the two held onto one another, Deucalion relishing the smell of their joining and the feel of his Alpha and for the moment, not being able to see didn't seem so bad.

~*~*~*~*~*~

It had taken nearly a month and another round of laser corrective surgery but it finally felt like things were falling into place. His sight had began improving a week or so after he'd left the hospital, but it was all blurry shapes and colors. When it didn't get any better, his doctor suggested laser surgery and Deucalion had gone ahead, figuring there was no harm in trying. Scott had been there with him the entire time, supporting and helping and taking care of Deucalion in the perfect way he always did.

And now, it was all over. The bandages were coming off thanks to Nurse McCall's gentle touch and when Deucalion opened his eyes, he swore he could hear the Heavenly Choir rejoice in a chorus of _Hallelujah_. His vision wasn't perfect, things still somewhat blurry, but the fact that he could see at all felt like miracle of sorts and he was overcome with joy.

“Guess it worked,” came a now familiar voice that Deucalion knew better than his own and he relished the amused tone to it, the hint of his own joy that he knew came from the knowledge of his Omega being happy.

Blinking, he turned to find Scott standing by his side, hand on Deucalion's shoulder in steadfast support and the grin that had been in his voice on his face.

His wonderful face.

Deucalion smiled wide as he took in the sight of the young man he now knew to be his Mate, finally able to take in details that had only been described to him by Scott. Dark hair in a stylish cut, dark eyes that seemed to twinkle, mole under his right eye. His jaw was crooked as Scott had said but it was yet another thing tat Deucalion found endearing about the young man.

“I love you,” he stated, his eyes finally able to lock onto Scott's as he spoke those words for the first time.

Scott's grin grew even wider, eyes crinkling adorably and Deucalion knew he wanted to look at that sight for the rest of his life. “I love you, too,” he replied as he bent down and pressed his lips to the Omega's, the sentiment echoed in the kiss.

Deucalion didn't close his eyes this time, determined to take in every image possible, greedy for it after having gone so long without. And now, he would never be denied the sight of his Mate ever again.


End file.
